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Scorcese scores with over-the-top ‘Wolf of Wall Street’

Gannett Chief Film Critic;
Published 2:56 p.m. ET Dec. 24, 2013

This film image released by Paramount Pictures shows Leonardo DiCaprio as Jordan Belfort in a scene from "The Wolf of Wall Street."(AP Photo/Paramount Pictures, Mary Cybulski)(Photo: Mary Cybulski, AP)

And that is precisely the point. Scorsese’s film, for which Terence Winter wrote the script, is based on Jordan Belfort’s book. The disgraced stockbroker talks not only about how he swindled customers (and employees) out of millions, but also the wretched excess that Belfort’s riches brought him. Yachts, cars, dwarf tossing, booze, heaps of Quaaludes, orgies, hookers and, for those special moments, a little private time with a dominatrix who laughs at “safe” words — all that and more is here.

As is Leonardo DiCaprio, playing the role of Belfort to the hilt. It’s fair to say you’ve never seen DiCaprio like this, and I don’t mean just the scene in which the lighted red candle is ... oh, forget it. You get the idea.

It’s an ugly life but a vastly entertaining movie, pretty much defining the best parts of being a voyeur: all the parties and none of the hangovers. The three-hour run time is telling, too. Too much of a good thing is numbing, and Belfort’s lifestyle, like the film, is no exception. It’s all part of the experience.

Belfort comes from a modest upbringing but has always hungered for money. He lands a job on Wall Street, passes his exams and, in a brilliant scene, sits down with his boss and mentor (played by a wired, giddy Matthew McConaughey in a great scene) for a pep talk; part of the pep is provided by cocaine.

Then comes Black Monday, the stock-market crash of Oct. 19, 1987. Belfort is left without a job and without much money, which to him is like a lack of oxygen. He takes a low-rung job pushing penny stocks and realizes the profit margin for him is much greater than that of blue-chip stocks.

And a life of ripping off the people he sells to is born.

He enlists the help of flunkies, in particular Donnie Azoff (Jonah Hill), and soon his company, Stratton Oakmont, is ripping off people right and left. The company’s offices and clout grow quickly. Belfort is enjoying the services of several call girls a week, a fact not lost on his trophy wife (Margot Robbie). Not that it matters; as far as Belfort is concerned, money buys anything and everything, and forgives any sin.

FBI agent Patrick Denham (an understated Kyle Chandler) does not feel similarly. A scene set on Belfort’s gargantuan yacht, in which Belfort tries to intimidate Denham, who seemingly goes along with it until he doesn’t, is masterful (and, in this movie, a marvelous show of restraint — at least until the lobster throwing).

As with any fairy tale, nothing lasts forever. So it is with Belfort. Perhaps it’s when he lands a helicopter in his own back yard while drunk and high that it dawns on him that it’s all too much.

Nah. It never really dawns on him.

Scorsese pulls out all the stops, in a way he hasn’t since “Goodfellas.” This movie isn’t the equal of that one, but it has some of the same cues, such as a voice-over of the main character as his world falls apart around him. What’s different here is that things are over the top from the start; it’s a one-man exercise in endurance for Belfort to get up every morning.

But he does. There’s money to be made, people to take advantage of, drugs to be gobbled, hookers to be ... you get the gist.

The question, and it’s a fair one, is whether Scorsese is glorifying Belfort’s behavior or admonishing him for it. The whole movie is so expertly made that it’s easy to mistake the former for the latter. It’s not a morality play. There are comeuppances aplenty (though it’s great when Azoff visits the now-sober Belfort, who acknowledges that not drinking is horribly boring).

“The Wolf of Wall Street” works best as a snapshot of a particular time and place, one that most of us heard about but didn’t participate in. In that regard it’s brilliant. And if it falls short anywhere else, so be it. If nothing else, at the end of it, you’ll know you’ve seen a real movie buff’s movie, and it’s hard to be disappointed in that.

“The Wolf of Wall Street”

Rated: R for “sequences of strong sexual content, graphic nudity, drug use and language throughout, and for some violence.”